


brokenness is a work of art (surely this must be my masterpiece)

by lovely404



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Breakup, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Memories, Metaphors, lapslock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 14:48:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30124467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovely404/pseuds/lovely404
Summary: after the breakup, george recalls their memories
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	brokenness is a work of art (surely this must be my masterpiece)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [siriuslyapple](https://archiveofourown.org/users/siriuslyapple/gifts).



“george, i think we need to end things.”

those words stabbed him in the chest, they ran over his heart a thousand times. the worst part is that he expected it, but even knowing couldn’t have prepared him for the heartache that came with the statement.

it was no secret that their story was coming to a close. george heard the way dream's voice lit up upon hearing sapnap, he noticed how warm his tone was when he called him an idiot. 

_ “just like he used to do with me.” _

he composed himself, trying to swallow down the tears. “yeah, okay. let’s break up.” he hates the way his voice cracks. he hates being vulnerable. 

and that was it. the call ended, leaving george in silence. he had always thought that their ending - even if he didn’t want it - would be more beautiful. he thought that there would be words of comfort exchanged, reminders that their love lasted eons. but none of that beauty could be found, it was just cold. george already missed dream’s warmth. 

he missed his sun. 

he let his thoughts adrift, thinking of all the things he never said in the end. “ _ you were my sun, dream. and i think you always will be, whether i like it or not. _ ” 

he remembered that call, in the middle of spring. the rain pattered against the window while dream and george shared whispers of affection.

“you're like the sun, dream. you're so bright, you make me feel all warm inside- hell, you even look like the sun!”

there was a moment of silence, just breathing could be heard on the other side of the phone. 

“if i'm the sun, then doesn't that make you the moon?” dream murmured, his voice sent shivers down george's spine. his tone was nothing short of tender, filled with the warmth of a thousand sun rays. george closed his eyes for a brief moment and he wondered if dream felt as warm as he sounded. 

“yeah, the sun and the moon are lovers after all. quite fitting isn't it?” 

the memory faded, and george was once again aware of the rain in his ear. except this time, it wasn’t warm like the memory, it was only frozen and bitter. 

_ “fitting my ass, i can't believe i was so naive.” _

he sighed, leaning against the cool glass of his window. the cold bit at his nape, the chill was vicious. george had no protection against it. at least not anymore.

he wished that they had at least gotten to meet up, but no, he never got to experience the feeling of dreams arms around him. he never got to experience the taste of his lips, sickly sweet with afternotes of peppermint chapstick. he never got to experience the heavenly feeling of falling asleep with arms wrapped around him, loving whispers of forever flowing through his ears. 

the moonlight casted beams of light onto the floor of george's room as his mind drifted off to another memory.

“what is it like where you are, dream?” george asked, voice muffled a bit by his pillow. 

“well, it's sunset right now, the sky is all purply pink.” dream described the hues, painting a masterpiece in george's mind. 

_ the time where the sun meets the moon.  _

“it sounds pretty.” george said, trying to hold onto the vivid image he’s made in his mind

“just like you.”

“shut up! you're such an idiot.” he rolled his eyes, but his tone was fond, endearment seeped through the phone speaker.

the giggles dissipated, and george was back in the present. 

_ “oh, the things i would do to laugh like that again.” _

he wished he got to see the sunset with dream.  _ “if we had ever gotten to meet, would it be as beautiful as the sunset-painted sky?” _ he tried to think of it, the feeling of throwing himself into dreams arms, the feeling of pure, burning  _ happiness _ . but he couldn’t, his mind halted. 

and then he cried. he cried until his throat was raw, he cried until his eyes were dried out. he cried until he felt like he was floating, up and away from everything that hurts. he cried until he fell asleep bundled under the covers to escape the chill of his walls. but not even the blanket could keep out the cold. 

nothing could keep out the cold, not when his sun was gone. 

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments are always appreciated <333
> 
> follow me on twitter: @/elytrabun (i post lots of writing/theories there)


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